A boy no older than she, Gianfrancesco’s cousin, whispered what he would like to do to her when she stole into the hallways near the women’s chambers to fix herself. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. Has she any funds?" "She must have. At last she was roused. .
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